Loss
by Gargoyle13
Summary: A young and inexperienced Arthur commands one of his first battles and loses one of his Knights in the process.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one you recognize. The idea was mine – I think – though most likely others who occupy my residence would argue otherwise.

**A/N:** A very young Arthur and his handling of the loss of a Knight after assuming command of the group. The Knights we know from the movie are beginning their tenure at the fort as fully-trained Knights while the existing crew wraps up their years. A mix of movie crew and my own.

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"We do not bite, you know…"

Arthur started at the quiet voice over his shoulder. His head turned toward the sound while his eyes trailed, lingering on the corpse a mere arm's length from him. He refocused his attention on Kay, noting that the slightly taller man had stepped forward and was now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him, observing his dead brother with an impassive expression. Arthur found he could only shrug and shake his head slightly before turning his attention back to the deceased.

"Well, let me clarify that…most of us do not bite and those who do tend to prefer far…prettier quarry, shall we say?" Kay nodded toward the table. "And Brunor shall be doing, well, much of nothing…" Kay's voice trailed off and no sooner had the words left his mouth than he regretted them. He saw, out of his peripheral vision, the flinch a moment before the whispered acknowledgement from the young Roman Officer reached his ears.

"I know." Arthur stammered his response quietly and shifted his weight. To be this close…to have Kay say such a thing and, further, to speak it so matter-of-factly… Arthur felt his stomach lurch as his nerves threatened to fail him. It was not as though he had never witnessed death this close. He could recall his own father's body being laid out similarly…could hear his mother's mournful wail of her husband's name, her tearful cries for him to return to her as well as how she had turned upon the Roman soldiers who had tried to pull her away. But this – this was different. He – Arthur – was solely responsible for Brunor not riding back to the fort with his brethren…

Kay bowed his head briefly before stepping forward and placing a hand on Brunor's chest. "I am sorry…that was uncalled for…"

"No. It was the truth…" Arthur shook his head vehemently and blinked back tears. "And I am responsible for it being the truth…"

"No, you are not." Kay turned and pinned Arthur with a gaze that the young commander knew meant he should silence his tongue. Once Kay knew the silent message had been understood, he continued, his hand remaining upon the unmoving chest of his fellow Knight. "Brunor was a Knight – a seasoned veteran. As such he knew he had no business being caught near the edge of the forest and he also knew better than to give the Woads any opportunity to surround him. Brunor ignored those things and he paid the price."

Arthur shrugged and shook his head. His gaze flicked from the stern gaze of Kay to Brunor's pallid countenance and then to his boots while sore, tired shoulders heaved with a shrug and a sigh. "I should have listened…should have seen…"

"Aye, you should have but did not. Surrounded by battle worn Knights who have seen and experienced…who tried to tell you, to warn you what was coming… Aye, indeed you should have heeded their wisdom but that is a moot point this evening." Kay nodded, his sandy hair scrubbing his forehead as he turned his gaze from Arthur back to Brunor's corpse. "You did not and so we find ourselves here, where all commanders of men find themselves one day: staring at a corpse and wondering what went wrong, how this could have been prevented, and vowing to heed those with far more experience so this will never happen again…except it will. Again and again, you will find yourself standing somewhere staring at the body of someone you feel responsible for."

"They will never follow me again…"

"They will if you show you have learned or are willing to learn, to trust in the battle earned wisdom of the Knights that surround you. Show them that this was a grievous and painful mistake but that it was just that – a mistake and not something you intend to make habit." Kay turned and watched as Arthur looked up from studying his boots, dark curls nodding slowly at first and then with more determination. "Good. It is late and there is naught more to be done here, so I would suggest sleep…" Kay patted Brunor's chest then stepped away and patted Arthur's shoulder. "Go and rest, Arthur…tomorrow is another day…"

Arthur nodded slightly as he felt Kay pat his shoulder and listened as Kay started toward the door. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes before speaking quietly yet resolutely. "My fate is here, upon this island – to die in service to Rome but they shall not share in that… I swear this to you, Kay…I shall do all in my power to see that they do not…" He listened as the sound of Kay's boots first stopped then became loud and sounded as though they grew closer… Arthur was completely unprepared when his arm was gripped tightly while he was spun round, finding himself face-to-face with a very angry Kay.

"Do not ever…" Kay hissed and then paused to bite his tongue before he said something truly regretful. Choking back his anger and loosening his grip on Arthur's arm, Kay willed ire tinged calmness into his voice. "Do not ever speak to me…to any of us…about fate." He paused and snorted. "Fate is nothing more than a pitiful excuse for poor judgement that is utilized by those with no backbone, with no stomach for accepting responsibility. It is an insult to those who live this every day as well as to those who have given their lives in their duty or service or whatever we are calling it this year…" Releasing Arthur's arm, he gestured to the ashen figure laid out as he spoke. "And furthermore, do not promise to any of us, or to yourself, things that are not within your control. You can promise us that you will not force us to worship your god…or that you will not force us to bend our knees to you like servants…but do not…" Kay stepped closer and lowered his voice, poking Arthur in the chest and gesturing around to the fort at large. "Do not ever promise what you cannot guarantee with absolute certainty. Because you will fail and when you do, it will demoralize not only those who serve under you but you as well… It will cast doubts and aspersions upon you as well as your command – and believe me that is not something you wish to happen because both your honour and their loyalty are not easily regained."

Arthur stared wide-eyed at Kay, never before having seen such a passionate and angry side to the Knight who had been acting as his chief counsel since he had taken over command. "I…I...I only meant that I would do my best…"

"Then leave it at that, Arthur. Sometimes the less that is said, the more you keep your mouth shut, the better it is for everyone." Kay snorted and shook his head, unable to believe he was now quoting that bastard old goat to their commanding officer. Taking a deep breath, Kay exhaled slowly. "Now, Arthur, do me and everyone else in this fort a favor and go to bed. Rest and sleep as best you are able." For emphasis, Kay inclined his head toward the door and, when Arthur failed to move, Kay gave the man a light shove toward the door with another whisper for him to go to his quarters and rest… He watched as Arthur stumbled a bit, then nodded and hurried out the door. Once Kay could no longer hear Arthur's heavy footsteps retreating, he took another deep breath and quietly beckoned the eavesdropper to stop being rude.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Same as last one, folks.

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Kay closed hazel eyes and took a deep breath as he listened to the sound of Arthur's steadily fading footsteps before turning his attention to the eavesdropper. Kay had spotted the figure in the hallway but before Kay could deal with the intrusion, Arthur had proclaimed his stupidity and Kay's temper had flared.

"It is most impolite to eavesdrop from the hall…" Kay opened his eyes and waited patiently for a response or for the Knight to appear. When he did not, Kay shifted his weight in annoyance. "You do know I am speaking to you, Lancelot, correct?" Sighing, Kay crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his lips inward between his teeth as he contemplated going into the hall and simply dragging the youth into the room by the ear. Thankfully, before Kay had to resort to such tactics, the lanky younger Knight appeared in the doorway.

"Heard you…"

"I am going to guess you hear a lot more than just me…" Kay blinked slowly and studied Lancelot. The boy had a temper…well, perhaps not so much a temper as he simply did not seem able to keep his mouth in-check. When something bothered Lancelot everyone and anyone within hearing was going to know about it – loudly and clearly.

"Aye…heard it all…" Lancelot bit at his tongue and studied the elder Knight before snorting and shaking his head as he stepped fully into the room and began pacing between the pallet that held Brunor and the door. "You know he is right… It is his entire fault that Brunor is dead. And all your coddling and telling him to let this have been a mistake and not become a habit…" Lancelot stopped and scoffed. "Absolving him of his responsibility in all this…"

"I did no such thing." Kay watched as Lancelot ceased his restless strides and gawked at him.

"You most certainly did. You stood there and told Arthur that it was Brunor's fault that he lies here dead and is not out drinking with his brothers and cavorting with wenches…"

"Because it is his fault." Kay's quiet, smooth voice cut off Lancelot's rant before it could gain momentum. "You and I both know that Brunor had no business near the forest, nor any business turning his back upon the battle and allowing himself to be so egregiously outnumbered and surrounded by Woads… Brunor, were he able, would tell you, me, and Arthur similarly."

"But you absolved Arthur – told him to never mind how he ignored all of you yelling at him, screaming at him to retreat and regroup..."

Kay sighed. "Again I tell you that I did not, Lancelot." Kay held up a hand to stop the torrent that he could see forming. "Apparently your eavesdropping skills need some work because had you been listening closely and carefully, you would know that I told him quite the contrary. I told him that going forward he ought to listen to members of his crew that know more than he does – to rely on their wisdom and insights."

"But…"

Hazel eyes narrowed at the attempted interruption and Lancelot quieted instantly, knowing the look meant that he needed to shut up and listen. "However, if you are referring to my advice to Arthur to go to bed…then, aye – you are correct and I did absolve him of standing here all night, punishing himself and rendering himself utterly useless on the morrow, if not longer."

Lancelot shook dark, damp curls and shut his eyes, clenching his fists and his teeth so hard he shook slightly. "You gave him permission…" He stopped and swallowed hard but was unable to keep his voice from rising to a shout when he resumed his tirade. "You told him to go to bed and forget it all… Laid the blame on Brunor… How do you think the rest of the crew would feel knowing you counseled the Roman to just keep on sacrificing Sarmatian lives until he figures out how to be a commander and, further, that any of us who die…well…it is really our own godsdamned fault for being stupid and careless so we deserved to die, to end up in that pitiful little cemetery under a mound of dirt."

For his part, Kay took a deep breath as he listened to the tirade from the youth. Underneath the tirade though, Kay recognized the misdirected anger; the rage that lingered still at being taken from home and conscripted into service. The pain of realization of just how brutal and unpredictable and, yes, even short life here could be. And underneath all that, Kay could hear the fear that fed it all…

"Lancelot…" Kay spoke softly and repeated the younger's name a few times, hoping it would break through the cloud of emotion that had enveloped his brother. Once Lancelot stopped muttering in Sarmatian and stopped pacing to look at him, Kay continued quietly. "You, like so many others, extracted and interpreted what was said to feed your own animosity."

Dark eyes narrowed as Lancelot's brow furrowed deeply in an attempt to comprehend what Kay had said. Was it an insult? Should he be defending himself? Before he could decide, Kay continued on.

"This is life now. Whether you like it or not, this is what it is. You have been conscripted into the service of Rome. You cannot change that – they cannot change that; even Arthur cannot change that." Kay turned his gaze toward the fort as he spoke before his keen hazel eyes once again alighted upon Lancelot. "The sooner you accept that, the better you will be able to deal with what will be thrown at you – by Rome, by the Woads, and even by your brethren." He paused and considered his words carefully. "I have watched Arthur closely…he is not out to spill Sarmatian blood simply because it is at his disposal. I cannot force you, but I can urge you to take advantage of that…"

"Take advantage? I do not understand… What do you mean, Kay?" Again Lancelot's brow furrowed deeply.

Kay paused and again gave his words careful consideration before speaking. "Arthur is a good man. He struggles to bring what he has been taught into alignment with what is expected of him as a Roman Cavalry Commander. Beneath that is his own fear – his own doubt of his skills to lead, to command such a group…I, as well as others, have seen it. It was why he faltered today on the field – he was torn and, unfortunately, today his doubt won. I think, though, that if he had a Sarmatian he could depend upon…that he felt he could lean upon…" Kay tilted his head and hoped that Lancelot could follow the suggestion.

Lancelot had resumed pacing, but in a less frenetic way. His steps had been measured as he tried hard to focus on what Kay was saying, hoping to make sense out of the thoughts. When he heard those last words he froze and turned to stare at the elder. "Are you suggesting that I…what? That I offer to be his confidant?"

"No…I am suggesting that you be his friend."

"Friend?!" Lancelot choked on the word and his shock was writ clearly upon his features. "You want me to be…friends…with that…that…" Snorting and shaking his head, Lancelot wondered if this was Kay's attempt to be funny.

"Aye…I do."

"Why me? Why not you? Why not Bors? Or…or…Gawain…?" Lancelot gnawed at his lip, earnestly wondering why Kay would task him with this and not one of the others.

"I have a wife…a daughter…I do not intend to be a Knight forever. Once my paper of passage arrives, I am finished. As to the others…" Kay rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Truly do you want Bors being the voice that Arthur heeds? Or Gawain? Truly?" Kay watched as Lancelot considered and slowly shook his head. "Nay, neither do I…and neither do your fellow Knights. Besides, you and Arthur seem to gravitate toward each other… You are unafraid to speak your mind and he is unafraid to answer you." Kay shrugged and considered all the times Lancelot had narrowly avoided death at the hands of various locals as well as fellow Knights due to his habit of speaking then thinking and shook his head. "Or you can continue to hold Arthur's feet to the fire each and every time a Sarmatian life is lost…undermine his authority as well as his confidence… The more doubtful he becomes of himself, the less he will listen to those around him and, well, I believe you can piece together what that means for the Sarmatian cavalry…" Kay again shrugged and gave Lancelot the best bland/figure-it-out look he could muster.

Lancelot studied Kay's expressionless face before turning to look at Brunor. He ran a dirty and calloused hand through his curls and sighed. Turning back toward Kay, he let a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth. "I do enjoy a good discussion…" Nodding with a wink, Lancelot strode out of the room and set off in the direction of Arthur's quarters leaving a confused and somewhat shaken Kay calling behind him.

"Lancelot… Lancelot… Godsdamn you boy I did not…" Kay gritted his teeth and shook his head while he questioned silently the wisdom of shoving Lancelot into Arthur's inner sanctum. "Goddess help us all because I am not certain anyone else will be able…" Kay muttered under his breath and set off after Lancelot who had spied Arthur and was calling out to their Commander, asking if Arthur had time for a few questions…


	3. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize and possibly not even the stuff you don't. It's a battle of wills and semantics with these folks that I have learned not to engage in.

**A/N: ** Because I have been told these should be done more (Leraika), I present an epilogue of sorts.

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_Many, many years later…_

Arthur watched the young woman bustling around the room with a smile. She was picking up various loose papers – reading each and sorting them neatly into piles. Not that it would matter since inevitably he would just mess up her system of organization and she would be back, giving him the exact same pointed stare that Kay had often given him when he felt Arthur needed to sit down, shut up and just behave.

He listened and held back a laugh when he heard her huff and watched her tuck a loose, sandy curl behind her ear while muttering about the disorganization all around her. She was indeed her father's daughter (if he could picture Kay with long hair) and though that made Arthur smile, it also made his heart hurt.

"Odella…" Arthur shook his head and chuckled when she glanced at him darkly. "Please…stop. The papers can wait." He motioned to a seat next to him and was relieved when, after looking from the papers in her hand to his face, she set down the stack and came to join him.

"How is it you can command a crew of Knights and an entire fort with ease yet keeping any organization of your papers eludes you?" Odella shook her head and laughed quietly as Arthur simply shrugged.

"I have found that papers do not heed commands as well as men." He laughed as did she, before he sobered himself and reached over to pat her hand. "I would like to give you something…well two somethings, actually." Rising slowly, Arthur walked to his desk and opened a drawer. Removing two small, sheathed daggers, he walked back and set them upon the tabletop that was between their seats.

Before she could stop herself, Odella was caressing the well-worn leather that wrapped the dagger she had not seen in so long. Tearful hazel eyes looked up from studying the piece in a silent question; when Arthur inclined his head, she picked the piece up and slid it from its protective covering.

"My father's boot dagger…"

"Yes. Your Uncle Bedwyr gave it to me long ago for safe keeping with the understanding that one day I would give it to you…" Arthur smiled tightly as he watched the girl turn it over in her hands; watched as her eyes closed when she gripped the handle and wondered if she tried to imagine Kay's hand wrapped around hers as he sometimes tried to imagine his own father's when he held Excalibur.

Kay's death had been hard on everyone, but especially on Laurel, his wife, and their young daughter, Odella. Though, inadvertently, it had provided a lesson for Arthur about the bonds of family – that blood was blood, even if the only relation was thru circumstance. He had observed the Knights absorb Kay's family into their own folds; they cared for and watched over both women but had been especially good at providing Odella with many "uncles" to turn to for guidance and protection through the years. Arthur had joined in and taught Odella to read, much as he thought Kay would have wanted…and she had responded by becoming a voracious reader – there had hardly been enough tomes in Arthur's entire library to satisfy her hunger; then Arthur had taught her to write and she had become his personal secretary…and file keeper/sorter/organizer.

He was snapped out of his memories when he saw the movement of her sheathing the dagger and setting it down, then moving her hand to rest upon the second. Hazel eyes studied him questioningly and he nodded as she deftly unsheathed that dagger.

"Uncle Lancelot…" She smiled softly as memories came to her. Uncle Lancelot had doted upon her as though she was his own daughter. The stories she heard – of wild, drunken escapades and hot-tempered arguments that oftentimes led to bloody fights – did not match with the uncle she so fiercely adored… All Odella knew was that whatever she needed, he provided…sometimes without her ever having to say a word.

Arthur watched Odella's eyes flutter closed as she remembered her dearest uncle. He recalled years gone by and the aftermath of that battle, including the return of many of the fort's inhabitants. His heart broke just as it had the day Odella had flown through the fort in search of her Uncle Lancelot only to have Uncle Gawain take her aside and gently break the news. She had wept but somehow found within a strength and compassion much the same as Kay had exhibited countless times so many years past.

She opened her eyes and, as with her father's dagger, sheathed her uncle's and placed it on the table. After a few moments, she gathered them in her hands and held them tightly to her chest. Arthur watched in confusion as she inclined her head and whispered to each dagger in turn before rising and setting them back into the drawer which he had removed them from. With a soft smile, she closed the drawer and nodded at Arthur.

"You keep them – as reminders of how far you have come and all you have learned. I have all I need of Da and Uncle Lancelot here…" She touched her heart with her index finger before making her way over to place a gentle kiss on her Uncle Arthur's messy curls and slip her hand onto his. "They were correct – you are a very good and wise man…albeit an extremely disorganized one…" And with that, Odella returned to her organizing as Arthur shook his head, thinking once again how very much like both her father and "uncle" she was indeed.


End file.
